


Close to Godliness

by Hammocker



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Cute, Don't do memes, Fluff, House Cleaning, M/M, Pre-Slash, Robbie is drowning in a sea of stuff, Sportacus can't stop helping, Sportacus helps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 07:00:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9589856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hammocker/pseuds/Hammocker
Summary: Sportacus didn't like to tell anyone what to do, but this was desperate.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I started this, like, a month ago. This fic had no right to take this long.

An entire month gone by and not a single one of Robbie’s plans had even slowed Sportaflop down! Every single one, thwarted along with the machines he’d built to accompany them. The folding catapult in pieces, the bionic kitten completely shorted out, his sugar blow darts reduced to Pixy Stix, and even his trusty net had a big hole in it. Never mind that the net tore on a tree branch; it was still Sportacus’ fault! He should have known better than to flip out of the way.

A pile of his broken and discarded gadgets had formed throughout his lair, all around his single chair and the rug underneath it. He’d gotten into the habit of just tossing them somewhere when he was done tinkering. Why bother doing anything else with them?

Robbie let out a pathetic groan and collapsed back onto his shaggy armchair. What was the use? Nothing worked and he might as well just give up on villainy.

*****

It was during a friendly game of soccer with Lazytown’s kids that Sportacus’ crystal first glowed that day. The afternoon had come and gone without even a hint of trouble so it came as a bit of a surprise.

“Someone needs me,” Sportacus declared, bumping the soccer ball over to Stephanie. “Have fun, be back soon!”

Before anyone could ask questions, Sportacus had already flipped out of the court and was en route. He had a sinking feeling about where he was being asked to go and who was in trouble.

As he’d suspected, it wasn’t long before Sportacus found himself passing by the billboard on the edge of town and approaching the hatch down to Robbie’s house. Oh dear. Robbie might have done his best to be a nuisance to the town, but he always seemed to bring the most trouble to himself. Because of that alone, Sportacus couldn’t help but worry for Robbie sometimes. Being left to his own devices for too long wasn’t good for his well-being.

Keeping that in mind, Sportacus opened up the hatch and hopped down. It was a short slide down uneven pipework, but just before Sportacus hit the floor, he saw exactly what was covering it.

It was too late to correct his feet and Sportacus landed on a rounded, metallic thingy that had him trip backwards. He put his arms out in an effort to balance, but that only served to cushion his fall as he landed on even more discarded stuff. His landings were usually pretty good, but how could anyone have predicted that? Someone could have been hurt had Sportacus not come down when he did.

Sportacus sat up and took a quick glance around. A sea of strange, yet familiar gizmos surrounded him, barely leaving room to even stand. From wall to wall, metallic contraptions littered the floor and made for an awful tripping hazard. Sportacus didn’t even want to think about any sharp metal bits breaking off of them. If anyone was going to get hurt, it was Robbie, even more than usual. He didn’t want to tamper with any of Robbie’s things, but this was a desperate situation.

Sportacus spotted Robbie across the room, sitting limp on his blindingly orange armchair with his feet up on some of the discarded gizmos. From the looks of it, he’d fallen asleep before nightfall once again. Sportacus was happy that he’d managed to get any sleep at all, despite his poor timing, but they had more immediate issues to deal with.

It took a moment of calculation before Sportacus found a route over to the chair. He half-cartwheeled, half-flipped his way through rare gaps so as not to disturb too much. It was difficult enough for him to navigate his way through; how Robbie had managed was a mystery.

Sportacus came to stand at the side of Robbie’s armchair, feet splayed in an awkward, but workable angle.

“Robbie,” Sportacus hissed, shaking his shoulder. “Robbie, get up please, we need to do something about this.”

Robbie’s upper half tilted back and forth and one of his hands gripped at nothing. It took a good half a minute of prompting, but finally Robbie jolted up and glanced around. As expected, his eyes went wide and he did a double take as he spotted Sportacus.

“Sportakook!” he cried. “What do you think you’re doing in my lair?”

“I thought you might need some help,” Sportacus said, giving a modest smile and gesturing around the room.

“Help?!” Robbie shrilled back at him standing up from his chair. “I don’t need any-”

The very second Robbie took a step, he tripped over a toaster-like contraption. Sportacus winced and gritted his teeth; Robbie really could have hurt himself in all this stuff. Even as he bounced right back up, Sportacus couldn’t help his concern.

“Like I was saying, I’m perfectly fine,” Robbie said, taking a more careful step so he could stand face-to-face with Sportacus.

Now, far be it from Sportacus to pass judgment on Robbie over his way of living, but one couldn’t exactly live when he didn’t even have a clear walking path in his own home. 

“Come on, Robbie, don’t be silly,” Sportacus pushed, keeping up his smile. “There must be some things in here you could get rid of.”

“Absolutely not,” Robbie insisted. “I might need something and- you just never know.”

“Then let’s find out!”

Sportacus cast his gaze downward before kicking a funny metal box gadget up into his hands like a hacky sack.

“How much do you need this?”

“Be careful with that, you Sportaloon!” Robbie barked at him before his attention turned to the object itself. For a long moment, he considered the contraption, gazed up and down at it, wheels visibly turning in his head all the while.

“I guess I have another one of those. Somewhere,” he said. “I could get rid of it if I wanted to.”

A breakthrough at last.

“Okay, then we have to make a-”

He stopped, an idea having struck him. Placing the toaster back down, Sportacus stretched his arms in his three go-to power poses.

“One minute,” Sportacus said, as much a challenge to himself than as a warning to Robbie.

Robbie might have shouted something like “don’t come back” at him as he bolted out of his home, but Sportacus decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. He knew what he wanted and where it was, leaving the rest of the journey a blur of motion. One minute he was at Robbie’s, the next he’d stopped in at his blimp, and the very next, he was sliding back down the tube, a seemingly ordinary trash bag in his hands. Exactly 47 seconds from there and back. Not his best, but not bad at all.

Robbie was right where he’d left him. Too nervous of tripping to go anywhere, if Sportacus had to guess. He’d even been picking his things up and arranging them! That was quite the step forward. Although, the way he was arranging them seemed impractical. Bits and pieces of discarded mechanisms were scattered around Robbie’s feet while he used only certain parts in a larger structure that looked like a giant, snapping jaw. Now, given what Sportacus knew about Robbie, he’d have said that it was either some sort of trap or an art piece. Sportacus always preferred to give Robbie the benefit of the doubt, even if the art wasn’t especially appealing to him.

Oh, well. Sportacus wasn’t going to question Robbie’s tastes. He flipped over to Robbie’s armchair and placed the bag down on its seat, pulling it open before easily kicking the toaster in.

“Hi! Sportacus.” Robbie’s eyes darted back and forth and he side-stepped to put himself in front of Sportacus’ view of his creation. “You’re back already.”

“I move fast,” Sportacus said, shrugging. “We put all the things you need the least in here, okay?”

“Will it all fit?” Robbie asked, squinting towards the bag.

“Oh, it will, don’t worry about that,” Sportacus assured him, placing the bag on the armchair.

“Now how about-” Sportacus hopped over to a partially clear spot and scooped up an armful of thingamajigs. “These?”

Robbie put his hand on his chin and considered the things for a long while, biting his lip and drumming his fingers all the while.

“Well, I guess not,” he conceded finally. “They’re beyond fixing.”

Without another word, Sportacus tossed all three, one at a time, into the bag, just like basketballs through a hoop. That was plenty of momentum for Sportacus to really get going.

Sportacus backflipped over to a tiny oasis of clear space among Robbie’s things. He snatched up something that looked like a little vacuum cleaner and held it up for Robbie to see.

“You need this?!” he called.

“I don’t think I will, no,” Robbie said, only giving the thing a tertiary glance before turning his focus back to his art thingy.

Sportacus flipped over to another spot, landing on one hand and using the other to grab something at random.

“This?!”

“No!”

Another flip. Something that felt like sanded off wood.

“Or this?!”

“No, toss it!”

Something that felt like rough linen.

“How about-”

“Don’t touch that!” Robbie shrieked at him.

Sportacus looked down at what he was holding and found a bright blue fishing net.

“You need this?” he asked, a little bewildered, but more interested than anything.

“Yes, I need that!” Robbie reiterated.

He made to march over to Sportacus and immediately tripped over a briefcase-looking device. On one hand, Sportacus really wanted to tell him to be more careful, but on the other, he knew that Robbie didn’t like being told what to do, especially not by him. Robbie bounced back right away, sure, but that didn’t mean he had to be hurt in the first place.

“I meant to do that,” Robbie declared under his breath as he walked more gingerly up to Sportacus.

“If you say so,” Sportacus said, offering the net to him. “Make a pile for what you want to keep.”

Robbie made a show of sighing and rolling his eyes. It wasn’t the first time Sportacus had seen the display and, with how often he’d seen Robbie make faces, it was almost cute. Not cute in the way that a kitten was cute or even in a way Sportacus could explain, but still cute.

“I already have,” Robbie said, snorting like Sportacus had made some grand insult.

As Robbie made his way back over to his art pile, Sportacus figured that maybe some chit-chat would help things move along faster.

“You like to fish?” Sportacus asked.

Very slowly, Robbie turned to look at him. A sour expression had come over Robbie’s face, like he’d caught a foul smell.

“Excuse me?”

“You have all these nets and you don’t like to move too much,” Sportacus said, shrugging his shoulders.

“What would I do with a fish?”

“You could cook it,” Sportacus suggested. “The protein would be good for you. Or you could throw it back.”

“ _Protein_ ,” Robbie repeated with a shudder. “You insult me, Sportadork.”

“Of course I don’t,” Sportacus laughed. “I only thought you must have some other hobbies.”

“Maybe I do fish,” Robbie said, nose in the air. “It’s none of your business anyway.”

“I wish I could fish,” Sportacus offered. “I’m not so good at sitting quietly for very long.”

Robbie blinked rapidly and gave Sportacus a sideways glance, like Sportacus had said something especially strange or maybe even given him a revelation. It didn’t seem all that odd to Sportacus. 

“No. You’re not,” Robbie said, his volume slowly raising and a smile coming over his face. “I’m the best at sitting quietly and doing nothing in Lazytown and you are no competition!”

“I’m definitely not,” Sportacus said, returning the smile.

As Robbie let out an enthusiastic laugh over his victory, Sportacus picked up another thingamabob from the floor. Some kind of jack-in-the-box.

“You want to try throwing?” Sportacus asked, ever-so-gently tossing the thing Robbie’s way.

Robbie fumbled to catch it, but, with some effort, managed to wedge it between his arms and his middle. His knees shook with the effort of keeping it in his grasp and he struggled to manipulate it into his hands. Sportacus looked on, smiling and nodding in an effort to encourage him. Robbie wasn’t as weak as he liked to think. Well, he wasn’t exactly strong, but Sportacus was sure that he sold himself short intentionally.

“Just a nice, easy throw, you can do it,” Sportacus told him, gesturing towards the bag.

With both hands on the side of the object, Robbie squatted in an awkward position. He rocked his arms back and forth one, two, three times before lobbing it a whole two feet in front of himself. That was at least a foot farther than he’d thrown last time Sportacus had seen him toss anything. He was really improving.

Robbie stared from the device in front of him before slowly turned his head towards Sportacus.

“Maybe it’s best that you throw,” he said, lifting one arm up limply.

“We’ll work on it,” Sportacus promised, giving him a smile.

Sportacus picked the thing up from in front of Robbie and tossed it into the bag. Robbie grumbled something that he didn’t catch, but went back to clearing up the things closest to him. In turn, Sportacus returned to picking up and asking up objects all over the floor.

A good couple minutes passed and the floor was looking a lot clearer than it had been. Bits and pieces still littered the lair, but the mess wasn’t nearly as likely to get Robbie hurt. The two of them had done a pretty good job, if he said so himself. Before he could finish up, though, Robbie called to him.

“Oh, Sportacus!” 

Sportacus looked over at Robbie, who had waved and was giving an uncharacteristically good-natured smile. He’d taken a few steps away from his jaw pile. Maybe he was finally beginning to see the value in organization.

“I definitely want to throw away that-” Robbie pointed to a jellyfish-looking thing in the conspicuously clear middle of his “pile” of things to keep. “-that thing here. Would you toss it for me?”

“Sure thing,” Sportacus said, nodding.

He got a running start towards the art project pile and made a single flip over it, grabbing the jellyfish and landing on the other side.

“What?!” he heard Robbie shriek. “How could you-”

A snap and a second shriek rung in Sportacus’ ears. His crystal pulsed hard against his chest and he whirled around. Robbie was struggling in the mechanical jaws of his own device, arms and legs flailing. So it was a trap after all. Well, at least Sportacus couldn’t say that he was surprised. Right away, he could visualize what had happened: Robbie, in frustration, had made to storm towards Sportacus. Instead, he tripped and fell into his own trap. 

“Robbie!” Sportacus cried out, dropping what he’d picked up and rushing over to the device.

Robbie was making incoherent whimpers and groans. For as much as he struggled, the trap wouldn’t even budge. Wasting no time, Sportacus grabbed the snapped jaws just above where Robbie was caught and strained to force them apart. His height wasn’t giving him much leverage, with how tall the jaws were, but he strained nonetheless. Sportacus felt sweat prick out from his brow before he felt any give. Finally, finally, he felt the trap begin to move back. It wouldn’t take much to get Robbie loose, he just needed a little more time and effort. A little more, a little more, a little- He caught Robbie slipping from where he’d been grasped.

“Robbie,” Sportacus gritted out, looking down at him. “Move, you can get out.” 

A few seconds more of Robbie squirming saw him slip back out of the trap and stumble backwards. He fell to the floor on his back, but he was out. Mission accomplished. Sportacus flinched back, letting the trap snap on empty air. Much safer that way. The snapping jaws disarmed, Sportacus jogged over to where Robbie had landed.

“Are you okay?” he asked, offering a hand.

Robbie shook his head, once, twice, before he fixed a glare on Sportacus.

“I was perfectly fine!” he insisted before his expression grew confused. “Why did you do that?”

“You’re a friend and you needed help.”

Sportacus gave him a gentle smile, bringing his hand just slightly closer to Robbie’s.

“I am?” Robbie asked, glancing to the side.

All Sportacus could do was nod.

“I thought you didn’t like me,” Robbie told him, a suspicious stare crossing his face.

“What’s not to like?” Sportacus laughed.

“Well.” Finally, Robbie took his hand and pulled himself to his feet. “I suppose I am quite handsome.”

Sportacus nodded along, taking stock of what was left on the floor as Robbie chatted.

“And clever,” Robbie added.

“Of course.”

“And a good role model.”

“Robbie.”

“And the very best at being lazy.”

“Robbie.”

“And number one villain in the world!”

“Robbie.”

“What is it?!”

“We haven’t finished cleaning up,” Sportacus said, pointing to the bloated bag. “We need to take out the trash.”

“Oh,” Robbie said, following Sportacus’ eyes. “I knew that.”

Sportacus had to stifle a laugh. There was that mysterious cute quality again.

“I’ll carry it up,” he said before flipping over and grabbing the bag. “Come on.”

He didn’t bother to wait for Robbie as he made his way to the exit and climbed back up the pipe. He trusted Robbie to catch up, sooner or later. It might take an hour or more, but that gave Sportacus time to do some push-ups or handstands or anything else he could want to do.

Sportacus climbed up until he saw daylight, at which point he tossed the bag up ahead of himself. His feet touched the ground and he started stretching his arms right away. Not more than five seconds later, Robbie was hauling himself out of the pipe, breathing heavily, but otherwise unscathed. He’d come up faster than Sportacus had predicted. Then again, Robbie did make this climb almost every day. It only made sense that he’d scale it reasonably fast.

“Now what?” Robbie asked as he stepped out onto the ground.

“Do you want to do the honors?” Sportacus asked, gesturing to the trash bag.

“What?”

“Throwing it away, silly!”

Sportacus cartwheeled over to a nearby trashcan, pulled off its lid, and held it not-quite-sideways.

“Come on, I’ll hold, you throw, it’s easy.”

Robbie gave the bag a single, regretful look before picking it up.

“You want me to throw?” he asked, voice smaller and more uncertain than normal.

“You can do it, Robbie, I know you can,” Sportacus encouraged, giving him a smile. “Just try.”

Robbie frowned with uncertainty, but picked up the bag anyway. He turned towards Sportacus and his eyes narrowed with a strange sort of determination. After a moment of what Sportacus assumed to be talking himself up, Robbie began to hop-skip towards him. Not what he’d expected, but not unwelcome. He stopped about two feet from Sportacus and, after a moment of winding up, lobbed the bag toward the bin. Unfortunately, his throw still wasn’t quite strong enough. Sportacus ducked forward just in time to sink the bag in. As soon as it was, Sportacus placed the can back on the ground and covered it back up.

“You did it, Robbie!” Sportacus said, clapping his shoulder. “You cleaned up!”

“I did,” Robbie declared, chest swelling. “Of course I did, I’m lazy, not a slob.”

“You did a good thing for yourself,” Sportacus said, nodding with enthusiasm. “Do you want to come play basketball now?”

“I don’t play,” Robbie said, crossing his arms and putting his nose in the air.

“Oh. Right,” Sportacus said, smile fading. “Well, that’s o-”

“But-” Robbie started, holding up one finger. “-I might lounge nearby.”

Sportacus’ face brightened once more and he bounced in place.

“So come on!”

He took Robbie by the hand and started to bound steadily down the hill, a grin across his face. Sportacus wasn’t sure why, but the idea of Robbie hanging around him of his own will made him inexplicably happy. Even if he was just laying around, it seemed like a nice thing. He might even get up and dance with Sportacus later on; now wouldn't be something? A little strange, maybe, but who was Sportacus to question what brought him happiness?

*****

Robbie sneered as Sportacus took his hand, but didn’t pull away. That may have been a bad idea, since the next moment, Sportacus was running down his hill at breakneck speed. Robbie struggled to stay on his feet. The ridiculous blue kangaroo ran like two horses pulling a cart! Why had he agreed to this? Trying to get any rest around Sportagoof and his pink accomplice was near-impossible. 

But then, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Sportacus had been surprisingly nice to him. It hurt his villain pride to say so, but maybe he wasn’t so bad to be around. Robbie still needed to evict him from Lazytown, of course, but he could allow the stupid elf to stay a little longer on a whim. Seeing as his plans weren't working, Robbie could let himself ease up for a little while. That’s right. He was allowing Sportacus to stay for the time being. He could stop any time he wanted. Even if Sportahorsepower kept trying to pull his arm out of its socket. Part of his charm, probably, like the mustache.

Yes, Robbie concluded, it wasn’t as though this meant anything more. Not at all. And with that thought, he felt a little less un-villain-like letting Sportapony pull him along.

**Author's Note:**

> You know what I really love about Sportacus? He never makes anyone do anything. He gives advice and asks questions and talks to the kids, but he respects them enough to make their own decisions and only intervenes directly when they need help. I think I did a double take when he said that it's okay to have ice cream sometimes since a lot of kids shows focused on health are pretty rigid about eating healthy. That's something the more children's shows need to have; competent adult characters who give kids (and grown men who play dress-up a lot) the room to make good choices. tl;dr, Sportacus is precious and sweet and he has a great ass and we need more role models like him.


End file.
